against the rain, standing in water, and at the same time completely drenched by the dashing of the waves; the wind was bitterly cold, and not a dry spot, either to lie down, or to stand upon, was to be found. The soldiers of the 28th regiment, who had arrived three days before, with their wives and children from New South Wales, could not have suffered so much on that long voyage, as during this single night. We had besides no means of cooking warm food for so many persons; biscuits, tea, and brandy, was all that we could give them. It was a scene of misery and distress; and alas! I little thought that in four days the third part of these poor sufferers, and in less than fourteen days more than the half of them, would be launched into eternity.

On Sunday the 4th, at daybreak, the rain abated, and light clouds, through which the sun darted his scorching rays, travelled rapidly across the sky. The exhalations of the wet decks and clothes of the people crowded together, and the heat of the engine, rendered the atmosphere so suffocating, that I was obliged to give up an attempt to go to the forecastle. About nine o'clock it was reported that the cholera had broken out on board, and that three persons had been seized with it: two of them were only slightly attacked; but a woman died in the course of the same day. We had scarcely committed her to the sea on Monday morning, when nine men were seized by this frightful pestilence: in a few hours this number was so fearfully augmented, that a portion of the deck was fitted up as an hospital, and above forty of the sufferers received into it. Death often followed the attack in less than four hours; and, in order to make room for fresh cases, it was necessary to cast the

dead into the sea, sown up in their beds, charged with shot, without delay, and without the usual prayers. Two medical men, the officers, and the soldiers, did their utmost to afford relief to the unhappy sufferers; but alas! neither friction nor medicines, port-wine, sago, arrow-root or brandy, were of the slightest avail. Some of these scenes of woe can never be effaced from my memory. One fine young woman, in the prime of life, with an infant at her breast, threw herself on the ground in an agony of pain; though already struggling with death, she would not resign her beloved babe, and before sunset, the bereaved husband had committed both his treasures to the deep. Another woman, weeping and sobbing by the side of her husband, knelt down to warm his benumbed limbs with her body; "O my husband, my husband, you must die," she exclaimed, wringing her hands in the anguish of her heart, but she soon held only the cold corpse in her arms. Most affecting was the separation of a young woman from her husband and child, only three years old: in the agonies of death she embraced both; neither would go of the other till death had cast his dark shadow over the distorted countenance. Not less moving and painful was it to see the engineer, a fine young man, in his dying moments: he was married only two days before our departure, and implored God with tears to grant that he might expire in the arms of his beloved wife. These heart-rending scenes, the cries and lamentations of the dying, the wail of the living, and the frightfully distorted countenances of the dead, must soften and move the stoutest heart. . In four days we buried forty-five European soldiers, two natives, three sailors, four women, and three children, and brought about thirty cholera patients on shore.

let

On Tuesday the disease was at its height; on Wednesday, the 7th, the sea was more calm, and from that time we had fine weather. Under a brilliant starry heaven, but in a dark night, we came within sight of the rocky coast at midnight. The Captain, desirous to ascertain his position, ordered the vessel to steer as closely as possible to it, and soundings to be taken, when the steersman suddenly called out with all his might, in an almost unintelligible language, that we were close upon a most dangerous reef. A gun was fired twice, but no answer was returned. Like a stray wanderer pursuing a beaten tract in a forest, we steadily pursued the direction of the coast, with the rocks constantly on our left hand, sometimes just touching the rocky bed of the sea. At last, we threw out an anchor, when it appeared that, as the ebb had set in, we should not have sufficient depth of water; we, therefore, quickly weighed anchor, and again put out to sea. At length, at one o'clock A. M., we succeeded in casting anchor in a creek. When the morning dawned we perceived that we had passed Kurrachee, and had anchored ten miles beyond it, in an arm of the sea, running N. W. into the land. Accordingly, about 7 o'clock we steered our course towards that town, and in two hours came to anchor opposite the ruins of a small fort situated on a rock fifty feet high. We were soon surrounded by a host of sharks, which raised their greedy jaws out of the sea: they are ever on the watch to profit by the accidental fall of a man overboard, or the rash attempt of any person to swim to the boats coming to take the people on shore. They are, however, not so dangerous to the natives as to the Europeans. Though the sea did not appear to be

much agitated, yet the breakers were so violent, that the first boat we let down was dashed against our vessel, and the poor sailor who was in it had his breast-bone broken, and he died soon after. Lord Altamont, who had had a slight attack of cholera during the preceding night, Captains West and Bennet, and myself, chose the first boat that approached, which we could only reach by means of a well-calculated leap.

From the old fort which projects into the sea a bay runs three miles inland, in an easterly direction, which, in some places, is so thickly studded with clumps of mangroves (Rhizophora), that, at a distance, they look like little islands. Wild swine have their retreat in these bushes, between which the wind drove us with such rapidity that in the space of an hour we reached the flat, sandy coast, and were carried ashore by our boatmen. The town of Kurrachee, which is only 300 paces from this bay, in the vicinity of the ancient Crocola, is a small, closely-built, dirty place. The inhabitants, 14,000 in number (9000 Hindoos and about 5000 Mahometans), subsist by trade, navigation, and fishery. The slave-trade formerly carried on by Muscat, from Zanzibar to Sinde, in Hubshys and Abyssinians, was so considerable that 600 to 700 young people, of whom three-fourths were girls, were imported here every year: Georgians were occasionally imported for the harems of the rich. The price of a handsome Abyssinian girl was sometimes as high as 250 rupees: boys were sold at from 60 to 100 rupees.

*

At the eastern outlet of the town is a mosque and a pond, which, however, is often dry: but a few

* The slave trade is entirely abolished under the British rule in India.

At pre

date palms, bananas, tamarinds, and tamarisks, indicate that nature is not wholly dead. Two miles to the east of the city are the cantonments of the troops, of which there were at this time 2000 men. sent only a few houses are built of stone, most of them being constructed of clay and wood. The place marked out for the barracks of the European troops, has been very injudiciously selected in the sultry plain; a far preferable situation would have been along the elevated coast of Ghisry creek, which is constantly fanned by a pure, cool air, and where a view of the sea is refreshing alike to mind and body. Fresh water is supplied by a subterraneous spring, which runs from the town to the cantonments in a bed fifteen feet broad: every where else there is only a brackish ground. Bare, undulating, calcareous mountains extend from east to west, and form, as it were, a barrier on the north side. The sky is scarcely ever clouded except in the rainy season, and the temperature seldom rises above 95° Fahr. ; as a whole year frequently elapses without a fall of rain, the small quantity of corn grown here is nourished by irrigation with Persian wheels. From May till September a dry wind prevails, and incessantly carries dark clouds of dust across the sandy plain.

We waited in a small guard-house for the servants and horses of the officers, to whom we had sent our introductions; and we expected them with the greater anxiety, because Lord Altamont's illness became more serious, and nothing short of the most careful attendance and treatment seemed likely to preserve his life. It was noon before I reached the tents of Lieutenant Manbee; and here, too, I met with the kindest welcome from the officers of the Engineers and